What the Water Said

On the day I followed it down

I have always had a fascination with water - where it comes from, what it does, where it goes. Water is a great Teacher, if we watch, if we listen. We are ourselves mostly just self aware and slightly salty water, glittering fitfully with the brief sunlight of thought.

This is my story, in Poetry and photos, of one of my many journeys with water - following it as it flows from the summit of the mountains near my home, shaping them as it goes, down deep steep gorges, seeking the ocean.

This is Australia - just last Summer.

It is morning - early. The day is already fiercely hot, the river deliciously cold. I am alone. The air vibrates with the sound of the water, already travelling, calling, falling.

I must follow.

What the water said

is my secret for myself,

in syllables

uttered on stone.

Here in the hills where

earth matters

clouds scatter words

liquid as rain.

Drops accumulating,

rivers generating

meaning carving

mountains.

And I too follow gravity,

life flow,

letting go, becoming

inevitability

My thoughts articulate fluidity,

mindless with

mindfulness, knowing and

unknowing, overflowing.

Just travelling,

becoming water

falling

speaking, listening.

Immersed and

accepted,

transformed,

transmuted.

Knowing this

may never be again.

Knowing this

will also never end

Notes:

Location - Gibraltar Range - land of the Bundjalung, Gumbaynggirr, and Ngoorabul peoples.

Photos & video - me. (Quality variable. Balancing on a ledge on a waterfall, with one hand for camera and one on the rope, is not so easy. I think I need a GoPro….).